


Obi-Wan's Secret Weapon

by cattycas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Hates His Life A Lot, Asajj Ventress is a Badass, Banter, Bickering, Captivity, Crack, Flirting, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Obi-Wan is Insufferable Flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 06:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13992426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattycas/pseuds/cattycas
Summary: It's his charms. And his beard.Starring Obi-Wan being an insufferable flirt, Anakin getting pissed off about it, Asajj Ventress’ creepy smiles and gratuitous use of chains.





	Obi-Wan's Secret Weapon

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of the short cracky thing I posted on [Tumblr](http://cattycas.tumblr.com/post/170848867098/obi-wans-secret-weapon). I realized I wasn’t quite done with it, and somehow it got way out of hand, and even acquired a little bit of plot along the way (but not too much, do not worry. It's still foremost an ode to Obi-Wan's handsomeness, and still a cracky one).
> 
> The fic is sadly unbeta'd, and English is not my first language, so please forgive me any mistakes and instances of awkward phrasing. Feel free to point those out in the comments though, I'll appreciate it :)  
> Enjoy!

“Must you _really_ flirt with everyone who’s even remotely attractive on all of our missions?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Obi-Wan stops gazing after the bounty hunter who has just provided them with useful information about possible Senate spy and then proceeded to scurry away on her speeder bike — but not before winking suggestively at the older Jedi — and turns his head to Anakin. He even manages to look genuinely baffled, which, Anakin thinks, must be a first.

“You know, that thing you do, when you raise an eyebrow, and stroke your beard, and look all handsome, and suddenly everyone is hot and bothered and ready to eat out of the palm of your hand?” Anakin insinuates. A slow smile begins to stretch Obi-Wan’s lips and Anakin hurriedly throws his arms in the air. “Eh, forget it, nevermind.”

“Now wait a minute,” Obi-Wan tells his back — because Anakin is so totally not going to hear what banthashit his former Master is going to come up with now. Uh, no, he’s out. Never should have brought the subject up in the first place — but that’s just his way of life, Anakin guesses, speak first, regret it later. 

He is definitely regretting it now, as he heads towards the landing platform where they left their aircraft, with Obi-Wan trailing behind, his smugness radiating through the Force and pressing down on Anakin like a particularly annoying warm blanket.

“You think me handsome, then, is that it?” Obi-Wan calls out in that refined accent of his that makes Anakin’s nerve endings stand on edge. “And oh my, I never knew you paid any attention to my beard whatsoever.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s hard to notice”, Anakin mutters, “that thing covers half your face.”

Obi-Wan, who has caught up to him, hears it perfectly. He is still sporting that huge lazy grin and Anakin sighs internally. Why did he unleash this beast? Why does he always do this to himself?

Perhaps he should practice some patience when they get back to the Temple. Then maybe next time he can just watch in peace as Obi-Wan seduces with his charms _yet another_ mission-related contact, and then he can keep quiet, and _then_ he won’t have to suffer through his former Master’s flirtatious banter focused on _himself_. 

“I’ve been told on many occasions that ‘this thing’ makes me look very manly,” Obi-Wan says in a very pleased tone. From a corner of his eye, Anakin notices he’s stroking aforementioned beard right now, the bastard. “Perhaps it’s the very secret that gets so many people ‘hot and bothered’, as you so eloquently put it, my dear Anakin.”

Anakin just rolls his eyes. 

“Whatever.”

It’s not his best comeback, granted, — might actually be the worst, but he honestly has no idea how to get out of this hole he has dug for himself. 

He thinks he’s safe for a while, because Obi-Wan doesn’t reply to his brilliant input into the dialogue, but that illusion shatters as soon as they finally arrive at the landing platform, get inside their aircraft and prepare for flight. 

“So, now for the most important question of the night,” Obi-Wan purrs, fastening his seatbelt. Anticipating trouble, Anakin grips joystick tighter and pulls _hard_ , propelling aircraft fast into the sky, hoping against hope that shaky ride will put all other thoughts out of his former Master’s head. He has no such luck, of course. 

Obi-Wan just tightens his grip on the door handle, while his smile becomes positively indecent.

“Does my beard make _you_ hot and bothered?” he asks.

No words leave Anakin’s mouth as a reply, but the fact that they only _just_ miss a huge neon billboard with a portrait of creepily smiling Chancellor on it and don’t crash to their immediate death is, perhaps, the answer enough.

***

Obi-Wan is many things but cruel was never one of them, so Anakin is entirely unprepared when on the next day of their awkward flirting sequence Obi-Wan is still not letting it go.

“Did you know that the surface of this starship is so well polished that it can practically serve as a mirror?” he says conversationally to Anakin after they have boarded the cruiser that will take them to one of Yavin’s moons to deal with some Seppies that, according to their intelligence, are about to test some new weapon there.

Having no idea what this question was about Anakin just grunts in response. 

Obi-Wan continues, voice as smooth as you please, “And I noticed that my reflection looked extra handsome today if I’m allowed to say so myself.”

He watches Anakin slyly, bright eyes teasing, coppery-gold hair soft and swooshy, looking effortlessly windswept, and the beard is, of course, immaculate. Anakin’s fingers are itching with the desire to _touch_ , while Anakin’s _tongue_ is practically burning with the desire to say something snappy.

“Isn’t your ego becoming too huge for a Jedi?” he asks primly.

Obi-Wan laughs, bless him. “Harsh words, coming from the Chosen One.”

“At least I don’t go around calling myself the Handsome One,” Anakin snorts in derision.

“Oh but you could,” Obi-Wan says pleasingly, and it’s just as well that he retreats to the bridge soon after because Anakin… has absolutely no idea how to react to that.

***

Now, Anakin isn’t dumb. Well, most of the time, anyway. He knows he is a good-looking guy — Padmé had said that on more than one occasion, and he is inclined to trust her opinion on all things refined and beautiful. He also gets his own fair share of appreciative glances from people on Coruscant and other planets, sometimes while on a mission, too. He is just not as smooth about it as his former master is ( _yet_ , some hopeful part of his mind supplies).

But the thing is, it doesn’t really matter that much. No, sure, it is pleasant and a boost to his ego, but his appearance was never as important to him as his ability to do his job well, to fight the good fight, to wield the Force as masterfully as he can, and this is why loss of his hand or acquiring a nasty facial scar, while certainly _very_ far from ideal and not something he accepted easily, didn’t undo him. 

Why then such a small comment form Obi-Wan has left such a huge impact on him? Several hours have passed, most of this time spent on a bridge discussing tactics, and yet, the thought is still lingering on Anakin’s mind.

Obi-Wan called him attractive. _Handsome_. An urge to go and find a mirror — well-polished durasteel might do as well — and examine his feature is steadily rising, but Anakin manfully resists it. He is not about to pull an Obi-Wan, alright, and suddenly become insufferable to everyone around him with the newly-acquired knowledge of his handsomeness. No, he must be patient. Humble.

The Jedi way.

He is probably reading too much into the stupid comment, anyway. And Yavin with its moons is already looming near, visible from the portholes, so Anakin focuses on the mission and puts the thought out of his head entirely.

***

The situation on Yavin 8 could have been resolved fairly quickly and without much trouble, if only the Separatists didn’t send Ventress here, out of all their people.

And Asajj Ventress is _never_ good news.

Still, they could have dealt with her just fine, Anakin and Obi-Wan, together. But then the third party had to get involved, and this is even worse news. Anakin _hates_ it when the third side interferes — it causes so much ruckus, always. Not that he and Obi-Wan can’t cause some ruckus of their own from time to time, but really, must there always be some scavengers or bounty hunters meddling around and making Anakin’s life even more complicated than it already is?

It is smugglers, this time around. Only apparently they didn’t have any goods to smuggle from or into Yavin 8, and thus for some unfathomable reason decided that it would be a much more profitable venture to capture some authorities and ransom them out.

They don’t even care if the authorities are Republican or Separatists, and this is exactly how they — Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ventress — end up all together, caged, bound, chained and hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Personally, Anakin thinks it is a bit of overkill, certainly at least one of these precautions is entirely unnecessary, but well, it does get the job of securely keeping them in place done, so he has to give at least a little credit where it’s due.

Ventress doesn’t seem all that bothered by the predicament. In fact, she’s smiling really quite scarily — which looks even worse upside down, to be honest. And Obi-Wan is the very picture of calm and stoicism, of course.

He is _also_ the very picture of charm, which Anakin simultaneously resents and finds utterly hilarious, considering the circumstances. 

“Well, are you two planning on getting us free anytime soon?” Ventress sneers. “Aren’t these meager chains and binds no match for two great Jedi?”

“Oh I don’t know, I must say, I do enjoy the company,” Obi-Wan tells her with a lazy smile while his body is swaying slightly back and forth. “And seeing you in chains is really quite a vision, darling.”

No, forget about finding anything about this hilarious. Anakin would like to revise that statement, and also to shoot himself in the face with a plasma gun right about now, please.

“I would actually believe you had I not suspected that all that blood rushing to your head is making you dizzy, my dear Obi-Wan,” Ventress replies, and her voice sounds much (well, not _really_ much, but considerably) less haughty now. She gives the Jedi a slow once-over after that and admits a tad later, “Chains suit you yourself really well, Obi-Wan, I won’t deny that. I wish I could save a holo for later.”

Scratch the plasma gun, Anakin wants to destroy the whole place, himself included, with a plasma _cannon_.

“Are you two quite done yet?” he snaps. “Or is a make-out session about to happen next, too, instead of, I don’t know, trying to get free maybe?”

“Your apprentice is all hard work and no fun, isn’t he?” Ventress purrs, chain clambered to her legs rattling with gentle clanking sounds. 

While Anakin is busy being offended at Ventress calling him a mere apprentice — excuse her, he’s a _Knight_ , and a _General_ — Obi-Wan just shrugs, or attempts to, doing as good job out of it as he can, considering the chains, the hanging upside down, and everything else. 

“He is somewhat allergic to flirting,” he agrees, the traitor. “But Anakin has many other talents, mind you.”

“He’s also awfully cute, especially all strung up like this,” Ventress coos. “I could just eat him up.”

And she smiles — a hungry and predatory thing, showing all her sharp teeth, and okay, even if she is just as trussed up right now as Anakin is, this is still a little bit creepy. Something uncomfortable unfurls in Anakin’s stomach, something that might be fear, or possibly disgust. There is also a minor chance it might have been arousal, but Anakin masterfully ignores _that_ train of thought.

He looks at Obi-Wan, and has just enough time to realize that Obi-Wan is not smiling anymore — in fact, he is full on frowning, which is, well, _weird_ , — before there is suddenly a sound of doors sliding open and then several pairs of legs enter his vision, all of them coming towards the cage.

“Ah-ah, I must kindly ask you to refrain from eating each other while all of you are my guests, please,” a lightly accented voice chides. A pair of _very_ fancy shoes stops just before the cage where Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ventress are suspended.

Anakin twists and wiggles to get a better look at the owner of the shoes. He is a human male, turns out, and not all that remarkable, once you looked past his feet. 

Next to Anakin, Obi-Wan suddenly gasps in surprise.

“Ah!” The man exclaims at the same time, “Kenobi, my old pal, if it isn’t you! And you look good, I must add, haven’t aged a day!”

“I would look even better if my feet were actually on the ground,” Obi-Wan remarks, charm back on at full force. “Really, all this hanging upside down is making my head dizzy. _So uncivilized_. Honestly, from a fine man like yourself, I would expect much better manners.”

Anakin snorts quietly. Yeah, like this line could ever work. Like any sleemo ever would even consider making imprisonment more comfortable for them just because he doesn’t want to seem _rude_.

It’s, of course, at this exact moment that their prisoner waves his hand, some guards rush towards them, and the next thing Anakin knows — he’s back on his feet on solid ground, out of the cage and seated on a chair. There are still binds around his wrists and a chain connecting him to the chair, but still. Kriff, Obi-Wan is good. The Negotiator indeed.

“So, he’s a friend of yours?” he casually asks his former Master, looking around. They are in some sort of a hangar, with several crates stacked near the back door, but otherwise mostly empty.

“We’ve… met,” Obi-Wan replies, hesitating slightly. “Ben-Daran is from my home planet, Stewjon.”

Their ridiculous prisoner makes a wounded sound. “Just met?” he repeats, hurt obvious in his voice. “Did our adventures mean so little to you, then?” He turns his head to look first at Anakin, then at Ventress, and explains, “It’s not the first time I have our esteemed Jedi Master here in my clutches, I’ll have you know. We spent such a _fantastic_ week together, many years back.”

“Just enough time for me to retrieve some sensitive information for the Jedi Order,” Obi-Wan interferes, not flustered in the slightest, but no one is listening to him.

“Wow,” Anakin tells himself. Then repeats quietly under his breath, “Wow.” Because that’s apparently all the thoughts he has on the matter. 

Ventress is a bit more eloquent. 

“Adventures?” she inquires. “And _fantastic_ time?” Somehow, she manages to make these simple words sound absolutely filthy, and Anakin is yet again tempted to go rampant with a plasma cannon right about now. Death would be more merciful than enduring this.

“Ah, but let’s leave the past in the past!” Ben-Daran says with a little wave of his hands. “It’s the future that concerns me.” He drags a chair from the corner of the hangar for himself and sits down on it before his three prisoners, then continues to talk. “See, as fine business as smuggling is, it’s becoming more and more difficult with this kriffing war going on. First I’ve lost two of my spaceships, then my warehouse burned down, _then_ I went and put all the remaining loan money into this last batch of goods I was going to smuggle on Yavin 8, which would allow me to get back on my feed, but guess what happened?” No one says anything, and Ben-Daran sighs with all the sadness in the world. “Between your droids and your clones every last piece of my goods got destroyed, and my investors are probably going to eat me alive now! So you can imagine my desperation, I hope. And this is why I got you fine gentlemen — and a beautiful lady, of course, — here. The ransom that I’ll get will most surely cover all my losses! I just need to decide how to better go about it.”

He scratches at his beard — because he has one, hasn’t Anakin mentioned that yet? It’s not a bad one, too, as far as beards go, but nothing to write home planet about, to be honest, and certainly nowhere even near as majestic as Obi-Wan’s is.

"Count Dooku will happily pay a billion credits for each Jedi’s head," Ventress says smugly, lest anyone forgets that she is an agent of evil. 

"He will also happily cut your own head off as soon as you deliver him ours," Anakin points out. 

Obi-Wan, never to be outshined by anyone, intervenes with a sweet smile, "This is a complicated predicament, my friend. I'm sure the Republicans will be just as eager to ransom us out and it's by far safer option." 

"Perhaps," Ben-Daran agrees. He motions with his hand and one of the guards comes closer to unhook the chain from Obi-Wan's chair. "Come, my friend, let us discuss the possibilities in more detail." 

Together they head to the far end of the hangar, and Ben-Daran, never one to waste an opportunity, it seems, wraps an arm around Obi-Wan on their way out. 

Anakin stares stupidly at their retreating backs for a minute, then, as soon as the doors hiss shut behind them, slowly turns his head to survey the hangar. There are nine guards left, now that one of them left with Ben-Daran and Obi-Wan, each sporting a blaster and clad in heavy armor. Whatever this smuggler’s deal is, he takes security seriously enough. At last, Anakin’s gaze drops on Ventress.

Who is grinning lazily and somewhat ferally at him.

“You’re thinking the same thing I’m thinking, little Jedi?” she mutters quietly, her feverish blue eyes gleaming.

“Not that little,” Anakin grumbles, but still nods at her just the tiniest bit. Her grin, impossibly, becomes even wider.

“Then let’s dance,” she sing-songs, and in the next moment both of them jump to their feet, chairs upturning as they dash to the opposite sides, each barreling into the closest standing guard.

Chains are clanking loudly as they move, chairs dragging behind them and restricting their movements, but not enough that both of them don’t get a few good kicks in. As the first two guards go down, blasters start shooting. Anakin jumps and bolts, using his senses to avoid plasma beams, Force guiding him, the task made easier by the fact that guards only shoot at their feet, evidently intent on keeping them alive. Sensing another shot, Anakin dodges and pulls on the chain instead, just in time for the fire to go right through it, charred links separating, the chair finally freed from him. His hands are still tied though, but the binds don’t prevent him from lifting his arms up and Force-slamming two guards into each other, leaving them lying in a heap on the floor. Another blaster beam shots right by his shoulder — these guys are getting more serious, then — and Anakin rushes forward, using momentum to knock another guard down. They both fall, blaster landing several feet away, and wrestle for control. A knife appears in the guard’s hands — a strike of luck for Anakin, who carefully dodges the first clumsy attack, then twists to get the ties cut by the sharp edge. After that it’s an easy win — he reaches for the blaster with the Force and once it’s in his newly freed hand uses the handle to smack the man on the head, rendering him unconscious. As he sits up, victorious, he takes in his surroundings.

All the other guards are already down, with the exception of one. Judging by his more elaborate armor, he’s their captain, perhaps. No, definitely the captain, Anakin thinks, as his eyes zoom in on the four lightsabers hanging off the guard’s belt. He’s fighting Ventress at the moment — and definitely losing — so he doesn’t even notice when Anakin creeps on him from behind. It’s a done deal after that, together they quickly finish him off, Ventress delivering last vicious blow, and then both of them reach for the lightsabers at the same time.

Of course, Obi-Wan and Ben-Daran choose this exact same moment to return from their negotiations. Doors in the back of the hangar slide open, both of them take a step in and freeze, taking in charred marks of plasma shots and guards lying in heaps on the floor. 

Anakin turns his head to meet Obi-Wan's eyes and in this split-second moment of distraction misses Ventress' swift movement. She grabs her lightsabers, quick as a cat, and bolts away, towards the front doors. Anakin startles, then reaches for his own lightsaber — he takes Obi-Wan's, too — and runs after her. Of course, when he rushes through the doors, she has already vanished, not a trail left behind.

Sighing, he waits for Obi-Wan to join him outside and hands the man his lightsaber, noticing distinct lack of binds around Obi-Wan’s wrists in the process. There is no chain either and Anakin raises an eyebrow at him.

Before Obi-Wan can answer, though, Ben-Daran comes near.

“Is she gone?” he asks, clearly meaning Ventress.

Right at this moment there is a sound of engines whirring to life somewhere nearby, and then a starship takes to the air, heading up towards the orbit and soon disappearing. No one needs a clarification, truly, but Obi-Wan still supplies it in the most flippant tone,

“I would say it’s safe to assume so, yes.”

All of them go back inside after that, where some of the guards are already coming to with various groans and moans.

Obi-Wan has the audacity to actually apologize to Ben-Daran about Anakin wrecking his hangar and fighting down his guards like the guy didn’t kidnap and imprison them and instead is their best friend or something. Well, with the way Obi-Wan is acting now that certainly seems to be the case, Anakin thinks darkly. He doesn’t like it, but the fact that no one is in a hurry to put him back in chains is somewhat of a highlight, so he lets it slide.

Ben-Daran waves Obi-Wan’s apology away, not at all despondent by his security’s failure.

“Ah, whatever, since they obviously failed to do the job I hired them for, I can totally pay them less now, so it’s all good.”

Anakin is… reluctantly impressed by this optimistic demeanor. Maybe he can even see why Obi-Wan is acting so friendly with the guy. (Except no, he totally doesn’t, this Ben-Daran is still a major sleemo, even if he’s all happy-go-lucky now and speaks with the same posh accent that Obi-Wan has himself).

There is some shuffling around, Ben-Daran goes to deal with the guards’ captain, and Anakin is finally left alone with Obi-Wan to discuss what’s going on.

“We’re free to go,” Obi-Wan declares, and Anakin gapes a little at him.

“Just like this?” he asks, staring unbelievingly at his former Master. “What exactly went down on these negotiations of yours?” He’s almost tempted to ask if _anyone_ went down on anyone during their talk, too, and was it just as _fantastic_ as their week together all these years ago, but he honestly doesn’t want to know. Also, he will _never_ live it down if he does, and there are already enough topics that exist solely for embarrassing Anakin, so he stoically resists. Instead, he asks, “Did he agree to ransom us out to the Republic and is letting us go on your word alone?”

“Actually, there will be no ransom since I was able to offer him something better.”

There is this smugness in Obi-Wan’s voice that Anakin doesn’t like, and it radiates through the Force, too, annoyingly joyous.

“And what exactly it is, care to tell?” 

Anakin has no idea what Obi-Wan could have offered that would tempt a smuggler, desperate and full of debts, away from the money. Short of, well, exactly what he didn’t want to presume and ask about just seconds ago because it just doesn’t bear thinking about.

“Oh, definitely not something ordinary, I’ll tell you this. He was thoroughly impressed by my beard, you see, so he deemed my secrets to grooming it worthy of all the ransom he could get.”

Obi-Wan strokes strands of his coppery-golden beard as he finishes talking, and, well, it is an impressive beard that makes him look very handsome. It is still the most outrageous lie that Anakin had ever had the displeasure to hear, ever.

But before he can call Obi-Wan out on that, Ben-Daran comes to them, carrying their commlinks. There are missed messages on both, and as soon as Obi-Wan clicks the button, an image of worried Cody appears. It’s all desperate hurry after that, and more shuffling, and half an hour later Ben-Daran’s ship with him, Anakin and Obi-Wan inside lands in their cruiser’s dock to be happily taken away to Coruscant, their business on Yavin 8 already dealt with and finished by Cody’s men while the Jedi were playing Ben-Darans’s unwilling guests. 

***

Anakin corners Obi-Wan as soon as the opportunity presents. When the ship enters hyperspace and Obi-Wan exits the bridge, he quickly follows.

“No, but seriously. Why is this friend of yours coming with us? What did you promise him for letting us go?” he asks, falling into step beside his former Master. 

They don’t go far — Obi-Wan stops and turns to him with a smile.

“Oh, you don’t think the key to my secret weapon was enough of a prize?” he replies, eyes twinkling. “This hurts my feelings, Anakin.”

“Yeah, all three of them, I bet. Are you going to make fun of me and keep me out of the loop all the way to Coruscant?” 

There is bitterness in his voice that Anakin doesn’t want to examine right now, and it’s obvious that Obi-Wan notices it too.

“No, of course not,” he says, his voice gentler now. “Ben-Daran’s plan never involved the ransom, or not in the monetary form, at least. Apparently, the ransom story was mostly conveyed just for the hired guards, the promise of big money ensuring their willingness to capture and guard Jedi.

“See, the life of a smuggler, even as high-end one as Ben-Daran got to become, didn’t turn out all that it promised to be. Our friend here was deadly tired of loaners constantly nagging at him, of law enforcement trying to get their hands on him, and in general, all kinds of dangers the criminals experience every day were starting to weight on him. What he really wanted was a clean slate. And he decided that the Jedi were his best ticket to a new life.” 

He hesitates a little, but then adds, “Besides, I kind of owed him a favor. So when he learned I’m coming to Yavin, he organized an ambush.”

“He couldn’t, I don’t know, just contact you and ask nicely, like a normal being?” Anakin huffs.

Obi-Wan chuckles.

“Not that big of a favor. He needed some leverage against us, I guess. Besides, if I refused to cooperate and talk to the Council on his behalf, the possibility of ransom was still a valid plan B, most likely. As it is, I promised him my help and he let us go as a sign of good faith.”

“So you’re going to get this guy an amnesty,” Anakin grumbles. He’s not exactly excited by the prospect.

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t,” Obi-Wan replies with honesty. “He can be a useful asset to the Republic. Don’t take to heart his talks about mean investors, burned warehouses and ships lost to war. He has a lot of resources, trust me.”

Anakin can’t resist lifting an eyebrow at that. “Seems like you know this guy quite well.”

“I… may have kept tabs on him for a while after our last encounter,” Obi-Wan admits. “He did capture me once, and while it all worked out to my and Order’s benefit, in the end, I didn’t want a repeat performance. Although, with the war raging more heavily than ever, I stopped paying attention to such trivial matters.”

“A lot of good it did you,” Anakin smirks, which causes Obi-Wan to immediately turn stern and tut.

“Do not sass your superiors, young man,” he says, a smile hidden, but there. “Surely I raised you better than that.”

***

The first couple of days back on Coruscant are uneventful. Both Anakin and Obi-Wan were told by the Council to rest, recover, meditate. Anakin, who has never been a big fan of passive contemplation, uses downtime to check in on Ahsoka — his padawan is currently on loan to Aayla, helping her investigate very suspicious disappearance of a Senator from one of the less known planets. Anakin misses having her by his side more than he could have ever anticipated, but he carefully tries to push this thought away. Besides, Snips will be back with him in no time.

He also uses the opportunity to slip away from the Temple and visit Padmé. There is no awkwardness lingering between them anymore from the times when Anakin was young, dumb and star-struck by her beauty. Well, younger and dumber than he is now, anyway. And she is still just as beautiful, perhaps even more so, but ever since he has outgrown his childish crush on her, they actually started to become very good friends, and spending time with her in the Senate or in her luxurious and spacious apartment is now one of Anakin’s favorite pastimes on Coruscant.

She talks his ear off, raving about politics and democracy, but it’s all good, Anakin doesn’t mind very much, even if he never cared to know quite that much about some privacy and protection bills. Still, hanging out with her is _fun_ , they have fruit cake, Anakin teases Threepio to no end, and almost causes a slight intergalactic scandal when he accidentally answers a call from the governor of Cinnatar. Which means that all in all he has _much_ better time than he would have if he stayed at the Temple, staring at the empty walls and trying to meditate. 

When he inevitably gets back, he learns that Obi-Wan has already spoken to the Council on the subject of Ben-Daran and got Council’s approval, after which the matter was escalated to the Chancellor who agreed to personally sign the amnesty. Still rocking these negotiating skills then, Anakin guesses.

On the third day the Team finally receives a new mission.

There is a plan of terrorist attack on the Senate in motion, the Jedi learn. A large supply of explosives has already been smuggled to Coruscant, although no one knows where it is stored and who is the mastermind behind it.

“A lot of pain and darkness in the near future, I sense,” Master Yoda says. “Prevent the attack and find the instigator, you must.”

And this is how Anakin and Obi-Wan find themselves starting an investigation of their own.

***

There is only one place to look on Coruscant if you are after thugs and criminals: the underworld. And so Anakin and Obi-Wan descent into the bowels of city organism and find the seediest, most crowded bar they can. They decide that separating is the best course of action, and Anakin goes to inspect the back where booths and tables are located, while Obi-Wan makes a beeline for the counter.

The establishment is swarming with all kinds of species; claws, tales, lekkus, and tentacles are constantly getting in Anakin's face as he makes his way to the far side of the bar. Music is obnoxiously loud, too, a band of Biths playing semi-badly something upbeat and annoying, although it gets somewhat quieter as Anakin strays further away from the front. There is a set of steps that lead to a slightly raised area with booths and little tables, low banister separating it from the main floor. It's pretty crowded there as well, but not as bad as down below. Anakin ascends the stair and looks around. People are sitting mostly in groups, heads bent together, some laughing, some fighting, many of them deep in conversation, whispering to each other. This vantage point has a good view of the bar front, and Anakin takes a moment to find Obi-Wan to check up on him. It isn't hard. His former master is in the thick of it, leaning heavily against the counter, bartender droid lining shots of something viciously bright and blue before him. Anakin frowns. It's not the alcohol that bothers him, though, it's a scantily clad Twi'lek dancer so up and closes in Obi-Wan's personal space that she is practically sitting in his lap. 

Anakin scrunches up his nose and watches on as Obi-Wan takes a shot, downing it in a smooth single move. He looks almost elegant doing so. He then leers at the Twi'lek, who takes a shot of her own and gulps it down. She laughs when she's done, throwing her head back, exposing the long and delicate line of her throat, deep blue skin gleaming with sweat, the shade almost as dark as midnight sky in this poor lighting.

It's impossible to see, of course, standing so far away, but Anakin can imagine just vividly enough the way Obi-Wan is looking at her right now: one eyebrow slightly raised, a lock of coppery hair falling on his forehead charmingly, a sly grin stretching his lips. She must be mesmerized, everyone always is. 

He feels sick at the thought.

He isn't sure why it bothers him so much. So what if Obi-Wan keeps flirting with various beings on missions? He won't compromise the mission, he's still on top of his game, Anakin _knows_ that, there is no cause to doubt his former master. And yet, something small and ugly stirs in the pit of Anakin's stomach at the display, colors the Force around him into darker shades.

It's not... an appropriate feeling for a Jedi. He should deal with it. Analyze it, maybe meditate on it some. Not now though, now is really not the time. (And who is he kidding anyway, he'll never opt for meditating on something as part of the solution, he hates that.) 

Right, back to the task at hand. _Focus_ , he tells himself. _Concentrate_. Anakin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Pushes all of his emotions and feelings out into the Force to clear his mind, and _listen_. Force obliges eagerly, coming to his aid like a well-trained pet. All insignificant chatter slowly fades into the background and dies, and there it is: a cloud of dark emotions, something dangerous and sinister a little further away. Anakin opens his eyes and looks in that direction.

Two bulky hooded figures are sitting at the small table in the corner, deep in discussions. Just as Anakin takes a step towards them, though, one of them raises his head in a show of surprising intuition. Their eyes meet — Anakin thinks he sees a flash of red under that deep hood and no irises. It lasts only a moment, and immediately after the man — a Duros, Anakin guesses — springs to his legs, motioning for his partner to follow, and both of them hurriedly make their way towards the exit.

Anakin rushes after them, diving under the tray of drinks that a waiter drone is carrying, navigating around furniture and patrons. He is not quick enough, though, and when he finally makes it to the exit, there is no sign of his suspects, and he freezes for a moment, looking in all directions, trying to decide where they might have gone. 

"You left so abruptly that I hardly had time to finish my drink," a voice complains behind him, and Anakin snorts. 

"You would have time if it was one drink and not, like, twenty." 

"Now, don't be judgemental, Anakin," Obi-Wan chides, and Anakin finally turns to look at him. "Are those two gone?" 

The answer dies on Anakin's lips as he realizes that it's not just Obi-Wan who joined him: the Twi'lec dancer is also here, flushed, giddy and clinging to Obi-Wan's waist. 

"Who's your friend there?" he asks instead, quelling the surge of annoyance that raises somewhere deep inside him. 

"This is K'yala," Obi-Wan replies easily, seemingly unperturbed by two blue hands stroking fabrics of his Jedi robes. "K'yala, meet Anakin, he's the friend I told you about." Then, turning fully to Anakin, he starts to explain, "See, K'yala has an uncle..."

"Ugh, he's evil, I hate his guts," the Twi'lec in question supplies helpfully. 

"...As I said, she has an uncle who owns a lot of warehouses. Warehouses that public like this," he nods at the bar building, "uses for their unsavory deals. Recently, he had something big delivered to one of the storages, something important." 

"Reeeeaaally dangerous, he said. Ordered to stay away and not to tell a soul," K'yala adds with a giggle. She sways on her feet, and Obi-Wan has to hastily embrace her to prevent her from falling. 

Anakin might have gotten slightly miffed by the notion that apparently neither he nor Obi-Wan count as a soul, but he's too busy being torn between feeling slightly disgusted and kind of entertained. Mostly disgusted though.

"You think it's our explosives?" he opts for asking. 

"It's worth checking out. And K'yala kindly agreed to show us the location." 

"You sure it's not a trap?" Anakin says dryly. 

Obi-Wan tuts. 

"Now, no need to go offending this young respectable lady." 

Young respectable lady burrows into his side, not paying attention to Anakin in the slightest, and slurs, "You're really handsome, do you know that?" 

"Thank you, dear, and I, in fact, do," Obi-Wan tells her, and it costs Anakin a great effort not to roll his eyes. Obi-Wan then pats K'yala somewhat awkwardly on the back and stirs her towards the landing platform where they left their speeder, and soon after they are underway, with K'yala rambling off directions between fits of giggles.

***

The warehouse that K'yala leads them to turns out to be a trap. 

Of kriffing course it is. 

Two Duros, same ones that Anakin was chasing earlier, but sans the cloaks and hoods now, are waiting inside with blasters at the ready. K'yala's uncle — just as evil as she warned — cackles maniacally when the force-restricting glowy cage springs up around Anakin and Obi-Wan. 

"You stupid Jedi! I just knew that you would come sniffing and trying to ruin my plans! Good job, my dear, leading them to their destruction." 

That last part is addressed to K'yala, who stands to the side, looking entirely sober and serious. She acknowledges praise with a nod, her expression bored and soon disappeared somewhere in the back. 

"So, about that destruction," Anakin mockingly calls out. They may be cut off from the Force, but their hands are free, and their lightsabers are still clipped to the belts. He ignites his at the same time as Obi-Wan. "Let's see who destroys who." 

They cut off Force-binding tethers and spring into action. Everything is a piece of cake after that: they easily overcome the bad guys, capture the evil uncle, and with a quick sweep of the warehouse find the explosives they were after. 

"Well, this is what I call a successful mission," Obi-Wan says. He sounds entirely too pleased and is in good spirits. 

Anakin... not so much. Surprisingly enough, even a good fight wasn't enough to disperse his unease from earlier. 

"Sure, it involved drinking and flirting after all," he mutters.

Obi-Wan either doesn't hear or pretends he doesn't and soon they are off to the Temple, leaving baddies and explosives in the custody of arriving police officers. 

***

Obi-Wan comes to his room on the next day, while both of them are having some downtime before the next mission. He knocks politely and then perches on the edge of Anakin's bed, once in. 

"Hey master," Anakin says, old habit resurfacing in this peaceful moment. He's tinkering with the spare droid parts, thinking on how he can upgrade Artoo's power boosters. "Anything happened?" 

"I don't know. I rather hoped you could answer that." 

He turns to take a look at his former master. Obi-Wan looks pensive, which is not an unusual expression for him, but there is a sense of seriousness/determination in his Force signature, and it sends a tendril of — not exactly apprehension, but something close — through Anakin. 

"We share strong bond within the Force, you know that," says Obi-Wan. Anakin can only nod. "That means that I feel _everything_ that you feel," he adds as if Anakin needed a reminder, and his gaze feels heavy, full of meaning. 

Oh kriff. 

Anakin's first reaction is, naturally, denial. 

"That's wizard but not exactly something we need to have a _talk_ about, is it?" he replies as lightly as his vocal cords allow. "I mean, we've been sharing this bond since forever." 

"Oh but it is," Obi-Wan tells him. His posh-accented voice feels as heavy as his gaze, and Anakin's throat goes very dry very suddenly. "I've noticed something... interesting lately."

Surely this isn't going where Anakin thinks it is? He soon learns not to tempt the fate with thoughts like that though, because apparently it is, and the next words out of Obi-Wan's mouth are these:

"It came to my attention that you experience very strong feelings — including anger, even, — whenever someone pays me... extra attention, let's say. Or I do others." 

"If by extra attention you mean pawing all over you," Anakin says snottily, and Obi-Wan's eyes flash with something akin to satisfaction. 

"See, even now, just at my mentioning it, you already start to become angry. Anakin," his voice goes velvety soft, "what is it all about? Tell me what's going on." 

And how in the Force he is supposed to answer that? He can't in his right mind tell Obi-Wan the truth. How would that sound, huh? "Hey my favorite master, I'm actually pretty sure it pisses me off when other people flirt with you because I'm _jealous_ , and it especially pisses me off when other people are touching you because I want to be the only one allowed to do that, and you know the reason for all that? The reason is I've been crushing on you for quite some time now, and yeah, I mean it romantically. Also, your hair looks nice today and I'd really like to kiss you."

Two things then happen simultaneously. An audible gasp falls from Obi-Wan's lips (the very same Anakin wants to kiss, yes), and, with a huge sense of mortification, Anakin realizes that while he didn't exactly say all of this aloud just now, he did, however, unintentionally push all his feelings and intentions into the Force, and even now he can hear an echo of his confession resonating within their bond. 

Is dying out of sheer mortification an option for him right now, he wonders. If so, he will gladly take it. 

He mutters a string of curses in Huttese and brings his hands up to hide his heated face behind. 

Then he feels movement — and the next thing he knows, two large warm hands are on top of his own, gently prying them apart. 

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says quietly, and his face is so close, mere centimeters away. Anakin can see his own reflection in the peaceful depths of his bright blue eyes. "It's fine." 

It's _not_ fine, not in any realm. Obi-Wan is his former master, Anakin used to be his padawan, and these... feelings, the possessiveness, it far surpasses what an apprentice should feel for his teacher. It's dangerously deep affection, one that without a doubt plummets fully into the forbidden-for-the-Jedi territory. He tells Obi-Wan exactly that. 

"We're only human," Obi-Wan replies. Anakin lets his hands drop to his sides, but one of Obi-Wan's stays where it is and gently curls around his cheek. "Force guides us and helps us to control our emotions, but it not always can. Love is a powerful force on its own."

"You always have an insightful answer to anything," Anakin mutters, slightly annoyed. "Isn't it tiring, being right about everything, being so perfect? Don't you have any vices?" 

Not in a lifetime could he have anticipated what happens next: Obi-Wan leans in ever so closer, and his dry lips press against Anakin's in a soft, exquisite way. The kiss is chaste, but the intention behind it, the way Force feels around them, charged and cracking with electricity, is anything but. 

"Oh, I have plenty. And see, hardly perfect." 

He smirks in that insufferable way of his, made only worse by the immaculate state of his beard — he really is unfairly handsome. It's a good thing then that Anakin doesn't really need to ask what that kiss meant, whether Obi-Wan feels the same way he does. The way his Force signature glows with affection, the way their bond hums and practically sings between them is an answer in itself. 

"What are we gonna do?" he asks. It comes out almost a whisper, but Anakin really doesn't think he can handle rejection right now, not when he knows for sure that there is a chance that he _can have this_.

Obi-Wan's hand is still cupping his cheek, and when he strokes skin there with a gentle thumb, Anakin leans into it. 

"We'll figure it out together," Obi-Wan says. 

And they do. 


End file.
